Black is the Colour
by Crazy-McWritesalot
Summary: Cora bumps into the new footman one day, and it leads to quite an unexpected conversation about her maid. But to be honest, that's just me trying to defend O'Brien.


**I've got no excuse for this. I had to keep my bed for the best part of two weeks and to keep my mind off any stressful subject... and what's more efficient than watching Downton Abbey again? Well nothing, but I shouldn't have: now I miss O'Brien and her devotion to Cora.**  
 **I hope you like it... I might write more about Cora using Alfred to get to know her maid better? I can definitely see her do that actually.**

It had to be her fault. Everyone knew Lady Grantham was clumsy, which was the only reason why this sort of thing did not happen more often. Luckily, the new footman was, if not yet acquainted to her clumsiness, very adroit. Nothing had leaped from his tray, and he had caught her with his free arm before she could fall to the ground.

"I'm awfully sorry!" She excused herself when the rush of adrenaline had passed and she was once again stable and free from the young man's embrace.

"It's my fault m'lady. I should 'ave been more careful." He answered.  
"Oh no. In truth, _I_ should. I'm afraid I've got quite a nasty reputation downstairs for being lost in my own thoughts." She explained with a sparkle of amusement in her eyes.

"I assure you my aunt speaks quite highly of your ladyship." He answered, looking suddenly very shy.  
Cora frowned. His aunt? She squinted at him, and her look clearly made him ill-at-ease, as he hurriedly opened his mouth.  
"I mean, my - Miss O'Brien." He stuttered.  
Cora was taken aback. Of course she knew O'Brien must have had good reasons to vouch for a candidate for the position, but she had never thought her candidate was of the same blood. She took a long hard glance at the footman's face. Oh God… He _was_ O'Brien's nephew. She could see it now, plainly written there. That also explained the accent, the soothing brogue that had comforted Cora in the worst moments of her life. A smile came to grace her soft face.  
"How strange. Your aunt knows every one of my inner thoughts, and I had no idea she had a sister." She confessed.  
Alfred shrugged.  
"We are a big family m'lady, and we would do anything for each other. But as it is, we don't keep in touch that much. I had not seen my aunt Sarah since I was seven years old, really. Still, Aunt Sarah was always my favorite." He looked even younger when talking about his family, but he stopped abruptly. "I'm sorry, m'lady. I should stop bothering you and get on with my work."  
Cora grabbed his arm, pressing it lightly.

"Please, Alfred. You've piqued my curiosity. Will you tell me? Tell me why Sarah is your favorite aunt?" She asked, almost begging.  
Her maid's name was sweet on her tongue, and she smiled when she realized it was the very first time she was pronouncing it aloud.  
He looked surprised, but not in any way offended.  
"Well, it might come as a surprise, but she used to sing to me all the time. She tried to teach me a few songs, but I would always get the words wrong. It made her laugh so much that I would even rewrite those I knew only to see her smile." He recalled.

Both Cora and the footman had been so caught up in their conversation that none of them had seen Mr. Carson appear around the corner of the hallway.  
"Alfred?! Don't you have anything to do?" He stormed.

The poor lad looked so terrified by the interruption that Cora came to his rescue, turning to the butler.  
"Please excuse him, Mr. Carson. I've been detaining that poor boy."

Carson looked taken aback, but he nodded gravely, and shot Alfred a reproachful look.  
"Thank you, Alfred. Really. Your trust means a lot." She went on, smiling at the young man.  
Sarah O'Brien's nephew. She thought, watching him go.  
She smiled. She was not so surprised actually. Her maid looked very gloomy, and yes, could be an evil plotter. But Cora knew she had a softer side. In fact, she was jealous of Alfred. She had seen O'Brien's best smile once, or twice. And it _was_ a sight for sore eyes. A sight she strived to be the reason for on a daily basis.  
Her singing was not a surprise either. Cora wasn't sure that Sarah was aware of it, but the maid was in the habit of humming. Somehow, it seemed to her that she did so when she felt Cora was miserable. Or at least that's what she liked to think. She would hum while brushing her hair, and as simple as that was, it was the most soothing thing.

The dressing gong shook her out of her thoughts. It was time to abandon herself to O'Brien's care. And maybe, just maybe, Lady Grantham would hum along with her.


End file.
